


Careless...

by Elysandra



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/F, Prompt: guns/blades, Writing exercise: 1st Person PoV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elysandra/pseuds/Elysandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate's been careless...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Careless...

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for the prompt 'guns/blades' on my kink_bingo card. It was also written in answer to the writing exercise 'The Reluctant I' in the awesome book "3am Epiphany" (Task: "Write a first-person story in which you use the first-person pronoun (I or me or my) only two times - but keep the I somehow important to the narrative you're constructing." - I think I used it three times - but I also wrote about 200 words more ;)
> 
> Thanks go to adeclanfan who gave feedback on this over on RAWR when I was feeling unsure about it :)

Weapons are fascinating. Especially guns. They make you feel strong when you hold them, empowered. Competent, ideally, but that’s up to you. And they make you feel vulnerable if pointed at you. Scratch that, you _are_ vulnerable with a gun pointed at you, especially if you’re not holding one yourself (- unless you’re a vampire, but that only concerns Nikola Tesla, right? Or you’re a bullet-proof abnormal. But those are rare so they’re probably negligible as well. Thus: vulnerable.)

Being vulnerable gives you a whole new appreciation for life, in a way. Makes you check your priorities. (Supposing you survive. Otherwise you’ve probably got a whole new set of priorities - or none at all.) In a way, handling and facing guns, or any kind of weapon, is kinda like extreme sports - only that much more serious.

Coincidentally, it’s also what I’m good at - and gaining even more experience with every new weapon Henry devises. To be honest, it feels a little bit like shouldering Ashley’s legacy, taking over what has been her forte. Her place at the Sanctuary. It feels like filling a hole, as much as possible at least. Kinda ironic how the new girl makes amends the only way she can - by providing the team with exactly what she’s cost it. And no, no session with Let’s-talk-about-it-Will needed; one Kate Freelander wouldn’t have stayed if anyone honestly blamed her for what happened when all she did was sell her services to the wrong side - once again. But that’s over. Done with. _This_ is the right side. Turns out The Good are easily grey enough for a Freelander; even permeated with ample black, some days. Who’d have guessed, huh?

Still, if there’d been so much as a glimmer of resentment in Magnus’ eyes... But careful study turned up with nothing. Only close scrutiny, silent contemplation; and a challenge. Yeah, _so_ not backing down from a challenge!

She’s hard to read, that woman, but that’s okay. There’s time to learn, now, time to discover. Though her words, few as they’ve been so far, leave absolutely no doubt that _she_ doesn’t need that time. She understands disturbingly well and her eyes are quite straight forward about letting you know that she fathoms far more than you should be comfortable with at any given day. Exasperating! At least she’s that way with everyone it seems. You only need to listen to Will’s grumbling; he’s been ‘told’ quite the same thing, more than once. Though _that_ look probably hasn’t got him all tingly inside. Hopefully. Well, he certainly isn’t one of us danger-junkies. To him, Magnus is one huge enigma wrapped in... Something. And a hard nut to crack. Though why anyone would even think to try, no idea. He could probably spend the rest of his very much normal and very much mortal life trying to get a grip of the magnitude that’s a life such as that of Helen Magnus. She’d still be able to surprise him without even thinking about it. And he’d love it; it’s where he gets his kick from.

That’s because he’s not a danger-junkie. He gets kicks from knowledge, from knowing she’s been living and experiencing all those years, decades, centuries nowadays, of history. Not from the strength barely hidden under her womanly charms, from the danger lurking right behind that adorable British accent. He knows about this side of her, gets reminded of what she’s capable of during those heart-stopping moments when she drops all pretense; but he doesn’t _see_ it.

She doesn’t hide it, exactly. It’s more a way of letting it rest. A knife put aside but always within reach, drawn within the blink of an eye. Once sheathed, other sides of her come to the forefront: her warmth; her understanding; her whole-hearted fascination with the world around her. There are as many facets to Helen Magnus as there are colours in a kaleidoscope. But woe those who do not realise they’re all reflections on the blade of a knife sharp enough - and quite prepared - to slice any paper. Or whatever else blocks her path.

Helen Magnus is an intoxicating drug to anyone careless enough to get addicted.

~~~

She pauses her preparations to look up when she hears the door open.

“I’d begun to think you might’ve changed your mind.”

She lights the last candle, the smallest of them, and straightens.

“Come on in Kate. I don’t bite.”

Yeah, sure.

I move into the room and close the door behind me, getting all tingly already. It must have shown, too; the little crinkles around her eyes deepen even as she waits patiently next to the bed, smiling.

Careless, careless, careless...


End file.
